


Patrick Wears Panties 😍

by thegrayness



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Established Relationship, Lace Panties, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:02:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21828655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness
Summary: Patrick finds a pair of lace panties in David's underwear drawer and—has thoughts. David encourages him.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 54
Kudos: 299
Collections: Schitt's Creek Open Fic Night 2.0





	Patrick Wears Panties 😍

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my dear beta without whom, I promise, this fic would never have seen the light of day.

“Patrick, can you bring me my eye mask? I left it on the dresser,” David called from the bathroom. Patrick didn’t move. He stared at the garment in his hands, rubbed the material between his fingers. It felt… luxurious. It had to be silk. David _would_ own silk. He _did_ own silk. 

Did David wear these? Patrick thought about them at the store, days in the beginning of their relationship when they got a bit… carried away in the stock room. Would Patrick have found black lace if he’d ever gotten David’s pants all the way off? The thought made all the breath rush out of him.

Patrick lifted the garment to his face and rubbed it gently against his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining what that would feel like against other parts of his body. More sensitive skin. He brought the material down his neck, pressing harder to feel the slight roughness of the crinkled lace.

“Patrick?” David said again, much closer, making him jump. “What are you—oh.”

“I just found them!” Patrick exclaimed, and now David looked startled.

“Okay?” He said, pulling the panties out of his hands. “They’re nice, huh?” 

Patrick didn’t respond, just stared at them some more. They were black, and they had gorgeous lace details on the edges. He stroked over the material again, and David let him, holding his palms flat so Patrick had plenty of space to touch. “They’ll probably fit you…” David drifted off and Patrick snapped his head up to meet David’s gaze. 

Patrick cleared his throat. “No,” he shook his head. “No, I was just—”

“You just found them,” David sounded amused but he wasn’t laughing. 

Patrick swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah,” he breathed out shakily. “I’m gonna shower.”

He didn’t wait for a response before fleeing into the bathroom.

*

Patrick was distracted for the entire day. 

He thought—at first he thought it was because he couldn’t stop thinking about David wearing those—them. Lacy and delicate and… pretty. 

David was pretty. 

Fuck, David was _gorgeous_.

But the more the thought about it, about the—the _panties_ , the more he thought about what they would… feel like. Well, he _knew_ , what they felt like. He’d touched them that morning. They were _soft._

Patrick wasn’t soft. Or pretty. 

Was he? 

David sometimes called him pretty, but it was usually when they were in bed—he was probably caught up in the moment. Sometimes, in the moment, Patrick let himself believe it.

He thought about the lace, scritching against the minimal hair he had on his stomach. Would it feel itchy? David wouldn’t have anything itchy, would he? 

Patrick wondered how high they were. Would they peek out above the waist of his jeans? If he wore a sweater and he reached up to restock the bath salts would David be able to… see them? Did he want David to see them?

“Honey, are you okay?” David asked, close enough that Patrick felt his breath against his neck. His sudden closeness made Patrick jump and he almost dropped the candle he’d been holding under the guise of restocking. “You’ve been kind of… dazed all day. And jumpy. Is something wrong?” David rubbed Patrick’s shoulders and leaned against his back to look at the candle in his hand. “And you’re restocking the wrong scent on this shelf.”

Patrick looked at the labels in front of him and then back to the candle in his hand. He was restocking tea tree on the chestnut and clove shelf. 

He cleared his throat twice. “I’m okay. Just—just thinking.”

 _Why_ did he say that? He absolutely could _not_ tell David about his—his _fascination_ with what he found in David’s underwear drawer while he was looking for the cap to the lube. 

“Mmm,” David hummed. “Anything you wanna share with the class?” His lips found a sensitive spot on Patrick’s neck and Patrick let his eyes flutter closed. 

“I—” Patrick started, and David lifted his head up, lips so far from Patrick’s neck now. “Maybe—later?” 

Maybe Patrick could—talk about it. With David. 

Or maybe he’ll chicken out and distract David with a blow job. 

“Okay, honey,” David agreed, kissed his cheek, and took the candle he’d been holding, placing it gently on the correct shelf. 

*

Patrick didn’t talk to David about it later. 

Or the next day. 

David didn’t bring it up, either, and Patrick was both relieved and annoyed. Patrick didn’t know if he wanted to talk about it, but didn’t David want to _know_ what was going on? 

Five days later, Patrick thought he might be ready. Was he? He’d thought about this. A lot. He would just… _casually_ bring it up. He could be casual. 

David was in the shower, and Patrick was pacing their bedroom, trying to plan his casual speech. Minutes went by and he found himself standing in front of their dresser, fingers pressed into the dip of the handle of David’s underwear drawer. He pulled it open and found them immediately, the shiny fabric standing out from most of David’s other pairs of briefs. He picked it up gently because it looked like something you’d handle with care. 

He could… be careful.

The bathroom door opened and Patrick slammed the drawer shut and spun around to face his fiancé. His towel-wrapped fiancé who was staring at him with wide, curious eyes. 

David glanced down to Patrick’s hand where it hung by his side, and Patrick followed his gaze. To his embarrassment, he was still clutching the silk panties in his fist. Biting his lips against a smile, David said nothing and gently pushed past Patrick to get his sleep clothes from their dresser. 

*

“Do you want to talk about it?” David whispered in the darkness of their apartment that night. He was wrapped around Patrick from behind, and Patrick felt the words against the back of his neck.

Patrick wanted to play dumb. What was David talking about? Patrick had nothing to say. “You don't have to,” David continued. “But—if you wanted to. I would listen.”

David _would_ listen. That’s what Patrick was afraid of. David was going to listen to him and then say all kinds of _things_. Patrick didn’t want to talk about this, he… didn’t think he was ready to hear what David had to say.

“Okay,” he said out loud but didn’t elaborate.

“Okay,” David echoed, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. 

The panties were still sitting on the stack of books on Patrick’s nightstand. David must have left them there after Patrick had run away to the bathroom. He could practically see them there even though it was too dark for him to see anything. “They look nice,” Patrick said, his voice was barely a whisper—he didn't think he could say it any louder. 

“They are nice,” David replied, and, okay, that wasn’t so bad. 

“Are they—expensive?”

“A little.”

Patrick definitely shouldn’t— _wear_ expensive panties. He didn’t say anything else for a few minutes. Didn’t David want to ask him anything? Why did Patrick have to think of what to say!

“Do you want to keep talking about it?” He murmured into Patrick’s hair. 

“Do you like them?” Patrick asked. 

“Yes.” Patrick could feel David nodding. 

Patrick swallowed hard. “Do you—wear them a lot?” 

“Mm, I wear them sometimes. Do you want to see—”

“No,” Patrick cut him off but started shaking his head right away. He didn’t mean that. “No, I mean—I just mean that. It’s not _you.”_

“Oh… kay?”

Patrick groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. He wanted to pull away from David, but David’s arms were tight around him. “I just. What—do you think about me?” He said haltingly, and he _hoped_ that he didn’t have to clarify. 

“Um,” David said, but it was his _I think I know where this is going_ voice. “I love you very much,” he finished instead, and Patrick didn’t want to but he smiled and snuggled deeper into David’s arms. 

“I _mean_ ,” Patrick went on after a deep breath. “What about _me_ wearing the—them.” He was flushed down his chest for sure. Good thing it was dark. 

“The them?” David repeated, and the laughter in his voice was clear. Patrick squirmed against him. 

“ _Okay,_ you know what I mean.”

“What do you mean?”

Patrick groaned and threw the covers off of them. David loosened his hold. “I _mean_ ,” he said again, turning in David’s arms, “ _I_ want to wear them. The—the underwear. The panties!”

David was smiling at him but Patrick didn’t know why. It’s not like this was—what did David think this was? They were David’s panties. If Patrick was the kind of guy who wanted to wear panties wouldn’t he know by now? Wouldn’t he _own_ some?

David kissed his nose. “So wear them. I’m pretty sure they’ll fit you. Unless you—well. Depending on how much you like them.”

“I like them a lot,” Patrick blurted out. 

“Okay.” 

Patrick pressed his face into David’s neck and took a deep breath of him. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” He mumbled into David’s skin. David wrapped him up again, held him close. 

“Why would it be weird? Do you think it’s weird that I have them?”

“No. But—” Patrick cut himself off. He didn’t want to talk about this. 

“But,” David prompted after a few minutes. 

Patrick pulled back to look at him. “But you’re—you.”

David laughed out loud this time, but he was looking at Patrick like he was the best thing he’d ever seen. “So? You’re _you.”_

What was _that_ supposed to mean? Patrick wasn’t—he couldn’t _wear_ something like that. Something nice, and expensive, and—

“Well,” David went on, “let me know if you want to try them on.” He kissed Patrick’s forehead. Like it was as simple as that. “Or we could get you your own? Is… that something you’d want?”

Did he? Want that?

“I love you,” he said instead and maneuvered them so he was hugging David from the side. 

“Goodnight, Patrick,” David said, running fingers through his hair. Patrick kissed David’s cheek and eventually fell asleep. 

*

The panties stayed on Patrick’s nightstand for a week. David didn’t mention them. Patrick didn’t bring them up either. 

But. 

On Sunday, as soon as David left to get them breakfast from the Cafe because, as David made sure to point out, he was a good and loving fiancé. Patrick picked them up, fabric pinched between his thumb and forefinger, and looked. 

He would just _try them on_ for like a _second._

Then he’d realize there wasn’t anything special about them and he could go back to never thinking about them again. 

Unless maybe David decided to wear them. Anyway. 

He dropped them on the bed and stripped off his pajama pants, standing bottomless with his hands on his hips. He stared at the underwear. 

He’d just try them for a _minute._

Gingerly scooping them up again, he shook them out a little, made sure they were facing the right way, and then carefully stuck one foot through a leg hole. It was just like any other pair of underwear. He got his other leg in and slid them up his calves and worked them over his thighs. The lace wasn’t scratchy, exactly, but it was—different. Nice. 

Sexy. 

Was he sexy?

He settled the elastic around his hips—they were _tiny_. The fabric that cupped his dick had a lining in it, so it was soft against the sensitive skin. He smoothed his hands down the sides of his hips, letting the material scrape over the palms of his hands. He slid his hands around to his butt—he could feel that only half of his ass was covered by the scrap of fabric. 

He glanced over to the full-length mirror on the closet door, and he was striding towards it before he even decided he wanted to see. He put his back to the mirror and turned his head to look over his shoulder. 

The black looked _good_ against his skin. His heart started to race and he lifted the back of his t-shirt to get a better look at himself. Sure, the bottom of both of his ass cheeks were definitely not covered, but the more he stared, the more he thought it was _supposed_ to be that way. It—it _was_ sexy, wasn’t it? He felt a little sexy.

He could see how this might. Appeal to some people. 

Some people. 

Just as he turned to check out his front, he heard the unmistakable sounds of David’s footfalls on the steps leading up to their apartment. His heart rate sped up, and he practically dove on to the floor to scoop up his pajama pants. He didn’t have time to take off the panties, so he just shoved his feet into his pants and yanked them up to his waist. He threw himself into bed and covered up. He’d take off the panties once David started removing things from the bags from the Cafe. There were probably a lot. 

David opened the door quietly, smiling wide when Patrick waved from his spot on the bed. “Hey, honey. You look cute all snuggled in bed.”

Patrick… _felt_ cute. 

He decided not to take off the panties. 

*

The sensation of his sleep pants rubbing against the material of the panties was— _tantalizing_. He wanted to rub at his hips every two minutes. He was barely stopping himself from squirming in his seat to feel them. 

David hadn’t given any indication that he knew something was up, and he hadn’t mentioned that the underwear was missing from Patrick’s nightstand. Everything was fine. Patrick was secretly wearing panties and he was really enjoying it and David didn’t know and he’d never have to talk about it—this could just be a one-time thing 

Until David, in his flailing glory, got too excited telling a story, and knocked Patrick’s orange juice all over his shirt. Without thinking, Patrick pulled his shirt over his head and brought it over to the sink to rinse it out. 

He didn’t notice the silence until he turned the faucet off. “David?” He asked, wringing out his t-shirt and then giving it a shake. “Are you okay?” He turned back to the kitchen table. 

David was staring at Patrick’s torso, unblinking. Patrick looked down at himself, to see if he had residual orange juice on his stomach.

He didn’t.

Patrick had a black, lacy line of fabric peeking over the top of the waistband of his striped pajamas. “It’s not—” He couldn’t really pretend he _wasn’t_ wearing them. 

David raked his eyes up Patrick’s abdomen and met his gaze. “Hi.”

Patrick bit his lip. “Okay, so.” He crossed his arms, suddenly very chilly, shirtless in their kitchen. 

“So.” David wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were bright and happy. 

“Okay, so. I’m wearing them.”

“I see them.”

“It was just for a minute.”

“A minute.”

“It was _supposed_ to be for a minute. You came back so fast!” Patrick threw his hands up. 

“Uh-huh. Well. Okay. You’re—wearing them and—that’s good. You wanted to wear them didn’t you?”

Patrick nodded jerkily. 

“And—” David swallowed hard. “Do you like them?” He stood up from his seat at the table and took a few steps towards him. 

Patrick looked away and David stepped closer. 

“Patrick?” He slid his palm along Patrick’s cheek, tilting his face up. “Do you like them? It’s—it’s okay to _like_ them, honey. Just—so you know…”

“They feel nice,” Patrick whispered, and David’s answering smile gave him butterflies. 

“Good. You deserve to feel nice.”

Patrick ducked his head and took in a shuddery breath, leaning forward to press his face into the crook of David’s neck. It always seemed easier to talk about things this way. Being tucked into David always made Patrick feel safe, made him feel grounded. “Do _you_ like them?” Patrick mumbled.

David slid his hands around Patrick’s waist and down to rest on his ass. _“Yeah_ , honey. You look—so fucking _good_ ,” he sighed. Patrick squirmed under the praise, shifting his hips forward, surprised to feel David half-hard against him. He looked up at his fiancé. 

“Really?” He asked, disbelief in his tone. “It’s—that good?”

“Come on,” David murmured, kissing Patrick’s temple and pulling him back to bed. 

*

Patrick let David maneuver him into the center of the bed as they kissed, and as soon as Patrick was flat on his back, David straddled his legs and stared down at him. He ran his fingers gently along the lace detail showing above the waist of Patrick’s pajamas. Patrick sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, squirming under David’s gaze. 

He was getting hard, dick beginning to strain against the delicate fabric. David hadn’t even really touched him yet. 

David plucked at Patrick’s pants. “Can I take these off? Or—do you want to?”

“You can,” he answered quietly. 

“You know, we don’t have to do this. It doesn't have to be—they can just be for you, Patrick.”

Is that what he wanted? He liked that David found him apparently irresistible and taking him to bed. Patrick slid his fingertips between his pants and the silky material of the underwear. He didn’t push his pants down, just stroked the softness. It was nice. 

He looked back at David who was staring at him like he wanted to devour him. A flush of pleasure at being wanted hit Patrick him all over again. Patrick’s dick twitched and David quirked the side of his mouth up. “Take them off,” Patrick decided, and David’s half-tilted mouth morphed into a full-blown smirk. 

“Okay.” David moved Patrick’s hands, pressed them gently against the bed, palms down. Patrick nodded, clenching the sheets. “Let me do this for you,” David said. _Keep your hands here,_ David didn’t say, but Patrick heard it. 

He tugged _slowly_ , slower than Patrick had ever seen him take Patrick’s pants off before. His tongue was poking out between his lips, his gaze fixed on Patrick’s crotch. The lace pattern of the panties was revealed inch by inch, and the light drag of his pants over his silk-covered cock made him bite his lip _hard._

He groaned weakly anyway, and David shifted his eyes up to Patrick’s face. “Yeah?”

Patrick blew out a breath, nodding. “I like—” he cleared his throat, “—I like you looking at me.” David licked his lips and nodded. 

He picked up the pace, then, a little, and Patrick gasped as the tightness of the waistband slid deliciously over his dick. David hummed, obviously pleased. 

Once his pants were mid-thigh, Patrick started to get restless. He was fully hard now, and probably wet, and his dick was straining against the fabric of the lingerie, pulling at it awkwardly. David pulled off his own sweater, leaving him in a t-shirt and his dark drop-crotch pants. “How you doing, honey?” He asked, stroking above Patrick’s hips, not touching the lace.

“Mmph,” Patrick said—or didn't say. 

David smiled. “Do you—want me to touch you? Or… do you just want me to watch?”

Patrick groaned. “Both?” 

David laughed and leaned over, kissing him sweetly. “‘Fraid not. Which?” He trailed a fingertip down the center of Patrick’s chest, down his abdomen, through the hair beneath his navel. He stopped just short of the panties and Patrick groaned again. 

He’d have to have David watch him another time. “ _Okay,”_ he said. “I want you to touch me.”

David got right to work, dragging his finger all the way down to the tip of Patrick’s dick. He’d soaked through the silk lining and the lace, and David rubbed at the moisture. The feeling of David’s hands on him, through the delicate fabric—Patrick threw his head back with a whimper. He fisted the sheets in his hands. 

“I’ve got you, Patrick,” David whispered, and then he was leaning over to suck the head of Patrick’s lace-clad dick into his mouth. 

Patrick couldn't help it, he let out a choked moan, fisting the sheets on either side of him to keep from thrusting his cock into David’s mouth. David gave a throaty laugh against him and—

“David—” He groaned, pulling a pillow down to shove under his head, and then David was licking him, his wicked tongue slipping between his lips to tease a path along the underside of Patrick’s dick. He was getting Patrick wet, and sloppy, and Patrick realized he was whimpering into the sex-soaked air of the apartment. 

“... so good like this,” David was mumbling, lips fluttering up under the head of Patrick’s cock, taking him so fucking high and they weren’t even naked. David pushed Patrick’s thighs open wider and groaned, like he was the one on his back, and pressed his face into the crease of Patrick’s thigh. He sucked a mark right there, into the sensitive skin, and Patrick threw an arm over his eyes, getting lost in the thought of the edge of the lace rubbing that spot over and over.

“Fuck,” he panted. “ _Fuck_.”

David laughed again, softly, lifting his lips away which was terrible and Patrick leaned up on his elbows. “Look at you,” David said. He reached out to smooth his hands over Patrick’s hips, nails scratching gently. He brought his fingers together to frame Patrick’s cock. “So pretty,” he whispered, glancing up at Patrick’s face.

Patrick’s cock jerked in his underwear and David grinned. Then David’s mouth was on him again, getting more spit and precome everywhere, sucking at his cock through his panties. David moaned softly, moving his hands to Patrick’s hips to hold them. Had he been moving them?

“God,” David sighed, and Patrick thought _he_ should be the one sighing deities around here. David sat up again and slipped his hand into Patrick’s underwear, adjusting his cock so it laid flat, pointing towards Patrick’s chin. It barely fit this way, and the lace edging nudging the sensitive spot under the head of his dick felt incredible. David was still looking at him like he was perfect. 

David’s fingers teased him through the fabric, the lace against his dick felt _delicious_ , and Patrick felt his orgasm coming at him like a freight train. “David—” He choked out, he didn’t seem to be able to say much else. David bent forward again to take the head of Patrick’s cock, peeking over the top of his panties, into his mouth. He dipped his tongue into the slit, and Patrick was so close; he got his hands in David’s hair, listened to him make such a mess—make _Patrick_ such a mess. 

Patrick tugged on David’s hair and David moaned again, dragging his tongue down to suck at Patrick’s balls, got him wet and sloppy. The lace was soaked and David pulled at it with his teeth, letting it snap back against him.

“God,” David groaned, pulling away an inch so his hot breath washed over Patrick, hard and dripping and so fucking turned on. ”You’re so _pretty_ , Patrick,” David let out in a soft groan and that was it. 

“David, I—” Patrick said through clenched teeth, still gripping David’s hair as he came all over himself, and the panties. David stroked him through it, gently rubbing at him through the underwear, lighting Patrick up as he pulled hard on David’s hair. 

“Honey, you look so good like this, messy and gorgeous and—fucking _beautiful.”_ David was panting like _he’d_ just had a top tier orgasm, and Patrick finally let him go. David sat up and got a hand inside his pants.

Patrick nodded enthusiastically. “Are you gonna come on me? Please?” Patrick suddenly wanted that more than anything, he wanted to be pretty and painted in David’s come. He wanted David to see him covered in their come. 

David cursed and Patrick helped him shove his pants down just enough to get his dick out. Patrick wiped at some of his own come and got his hand on David’s dick, jerking him fast. “Ohmygod, _Patrick,_ fuck—” He pulled Patrick’s hand away and all but slammed them against the bed next to Patrick’s head; it made all the breath rush out of Patrick’s lungs and for a split second he thought he might be getting hard again. David squeezed his wrists. “Like this,” he whispered and laid his full weight over Patrick. 

Patrick bit his lip as David shifted his hips to line his cock up next to Patrick’s. Patrick nodded, but he wasn’t sure why, and David smiled. “Yeah?”

David thrust against him, grinding his hips down, and Patrick grabbed frantically at his ass, pulling him, digging his fingers into the flesh of his asscheek. 

The lace made Patrick’s dick so, so sensitive but it felt toomuch and toogood, and a few uncoordinated thrusts later, David was coming between them, on Patrick, whispering filthy praise into Patrick’s ear.

“Fuck, Patrick, you’re so _fucking_ gorgeous—”

Patrick felt _wrecked_ from the emotions and the orgasm and the fact that he couldn’t help but— _bask,_ a little, in the admiring gaze David gave him as he dragged himself up so he was straddling Patrick again, and David reached down to slide his dick through the mess they made. Patrick watched his eyes flutter closed in pleasure. 

“Look at you,” he said, eyes open again, now dragging fingertips along the probably-ruined panties where they stretched over his softening dick. Patrick shivered. He—he _wanted_ to look at himself. “How do you feel?” David asked, and Patrick warmed from the inside at the tenderness in David’s voice.

Patrick cleared his throat and tried to wiggle his hips a little. “Good.” 

“Good?”

Patrick took a deep breath. “Really good. I—so good, David.” And he _did_ feel good. _David_ made him feel pretty and loved and _perfect_. He didn’t realize how much he wanted this—to feel sexy.

David awkwardly scooted back a bit and leaned down to press a kiss to Patrick’s dick, smearing his own come across his mouth. Patrick touched his cheek lightly. “C’mere.”

He kissed David, licking carefully at the mess, sucking David’s tongue into his mouth. Patrick moaned at the taste of him, of them, and shivered as David slid his hand over Patrick’s ass, beneath the panties. 

Patrick heaved a deep breath. “Wow,” he blurted. He couldn't think of anything else. 

David hummed and that pleased twist of his mouth made Patrick brim with pride. “Patrick, that was—thank you. For letting me see you like this, you look—just—thank you.”

“I love you,” Patrick said, and David’s smile widened. 

“I love you.”

*

“Guess what came in the mail today,” David sing-songed a few weeks later. He kicked the apartment door shut behind him and set the box on the kitchen table. Patrick knew what it was, and he swallowed hard before rounding the couch and coming to a stop next to David. 

“Hi, David,” he greeted, kissing him softly. David grinned. 

“You wanna wait til later? Or another day?” David asked. Patrick shook his head. 

“Now.”

David was clearly pleased, and he grabbed scissors from the kitchen drawer and neatly sliced open the box. He bent the flaps back and almost reverently lifted out another, much fancier box. He held it out to Patrick. 

Patrick took it and decided to move to the bed. He sat down on the edge and gently set the box in his lap, looking at David expectantly. David smiled, eyes crinkling, and made his way over to sit down very close to Patrick. He nudged Patrick’s shoulder.

“Open it.”

Patrick took a deep breath and lifted the lid. 

They’d picked them all out together. Five pairs to start (and one for David because Patrick kept clicking back to it and then glancing at David). A few different materials. Different styles. Different cuts. Patrick knew which one he was looking forward to the most. 

He gently pulled each pair out of the box, holding them carefully, admiring the details, fingering the lace on the lacy ones and touching the thin straps on the strappy ones. A particularly cute pair of dark gray, full-lace (very short) shorts were the second to last out of the box, and Patrick knew his favorite pair was next.

He handed David the first five, and David took his time admiring his own pair, while Patrick scooped out a gorgeous steel-blue pair with a lace front and a caged strappy back. Just thinking about wearing them made him shift his hips a little. 

David rested his chin on Patrick’s shoulder. “They’re beautiful,” he said softly. Patrick nodded and stroked his fingers over the front, imagined what it would feel like with his dick nestled in the folds of the lace, what it would be like wearing them all day—a secret for himself—and for David. He cleared his throat.

“I’ll wear these on Monday.”

*

On Monday morning, Patrick was still sitting on the bed in his towel. 

Waiting for David. 

David exited the bathroom in a billow of steam, dressed in his undershirt and boxer-briefs, hair was still wet, flopping down his forehead.

God, Patrick loved him.

“You ready?” David asked, coming to stand in front of him. He knocked his knee into Patrick’s and stepped between them. “C’mon.” He held out his hands, and Patrick took a deep breath before settling his own against David’s soft palms and letting David pull him to standing. 

“Okay,” Patrick said and David pressed in close for a reassuring kiss. Patrick felt David’s hands wander over his chest and pulled away. “David, we’re not here for a morning quickie,” he muttered against David’s cheek.

David moved back and shook his head. “Right.” He pulled Patrick’s towel away and tossed it on the bed before leaning around him and picking up the lacy, strappy panties Patrick had selected from their first order. “Balance on me, okay?”

Patrick nodded, but David was already kneeling in front of him. He wrapped warm fingers around Patrick’s right ankle, and Patrick grabbed David’s strong shoulder with his left hand as David lifted his leg and slid the underwear over his foot. He repeated the action with Patrick’s left foot, and once they were both flat on the floor again, David slowly slid the lingerie up Patrick’s legs. The material tickled the back of his knees as David got up to his thighs, and the slide wasn’t as easy then. It was more of a drag as the fabric stretched around his thigh muscles. 

Patrick watched David’s face, brow furrowed in concentration, tongue pressed between his lips as he arranged the panties over Patrick’s mostly-soft cock. He leaned forward a little to adjust his hold on the strappy material at the back of the garment, and one gentle tug later, they were on.

It was almost like wearing nothing, given the openness of the back, so when David smoothed his hands over Patrick’s hips and around to his buttocks, Patrick groaned quietly. “Mm,” David hummed. “Feels nice?”

“Yeah,” Patrick sighed. He gasped when David brushed his fingers lightly over Patrick’s cock through his panties. David giggled but took a step back. 

“You look _beautiful_ ,” he said, pulling Patrick over to the full-length mirror. 

Patrick… _did_ look beautiful. David tucked up behind him and rested his hands on Patrick’s hips. “Look at the back,” David whispered. Patrick turned around to face David, whose hands were still on his hips, and then looked back over his shoulder to glance at his ass in the mirror. 

“Wow, that’s a look,” David groaned. “Look at you, Patrick.” 

Patrick watched him in the mirror, watched him slide his hands over the roundness of Patrick’s ass, felt him dig his fingertips into the flesh. “David,” Patrick whined, thrilled at the attention but knowing they couldn’t tumble back into bed. He turned his head forward so he was looking David in the eye. 

“Okay,” David relented, stepping away again, out of arm’s reach. “Let’s get dressed to avoid the temptation.” David waggled his eyebrows and kissed Patrick hard before heading over to their dresser. 

They got dressed, and Patrick could feel Davids’s eyes on him the whole time, and it made him flush. When he slid his jeans on, he shivered at the feeling of the denim brushing against him through the lace. The rough material felt odd against his ass, but it wasn’t unpleasant, knowing he had this… secret. 

He tucked in his shirt and then buttoned his jeans, while David watched from the doorway to the bathroom where he’d gone off to do his hair. It made Patrick feel—gorgeous. Kind of… _seductive._ He wasn’t even _doing_ anything and David looked—well, ready to cancel work and lock himself in the apartment with Patrick. 

He met David at the door, drawn into his arms like a magnet. “How are you feeling? You still good?” David asked, slipping his hands over Patrick’s ass. 

Patrick smiled. “Mmhmm.” He nodded. 

David’s eyes darkened. “I can’t wait to get you home tonight, Patrick,” he whispered. 

Patrick groaned and all but smashed their lips together, tongue parting David’s lips. David moaned in surprise and squeezed Patrick’s ass, bringing their hips together. Patrick pulled away with a gasp.

“ _God_ , I love you,” he panted, cradling David’s jaw. “So fucking much.”

David smiled at him, wide and dimpled and _stunning,_ and Patrick kissed his open mouth—he couldn’t not. “So much,” he whispered again. 

“I love you,” David answered, sliding his nose along Patrick’s. “We should go,” he said, and he sounded extremely reluctant. 

Patrick swallowed hard and cleared his throat, taking a step back. “Okay, yeah. Let’s—go.” 

“You’re sure?” David stroked at Patrick’s hips.

“ _I’m_ sure. Are you sure you can keep your hands to yourself all day long?” Patrick teased, and was beyond pleased to see David’s cheeks pinken adorably.

David shook his head. “Not even a little bit.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel here: [Patrick Wears His New Panties](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673158).


End file.
